Dead Man Holdin'
by boswifedeb
Summary: After a hectic holiday season, the Houstons are back at work. But a phone call from Myron Chase leads Matt and CJ to a case in Las Vegas where a highly-disliked poker champion has died. **Immediately follows "A Houston Christmas"** Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

**DEAD MAN HOLDIN'**

****Immediately follows "A Houston Christmas"****

"**The gambling known as business looks with austere**

**disfavor upon the business known as gambling."**

**Ambrose Bierce**

**CHAPTER 1**

As he drove through traffic on the way home from the office, private investigator Matt Houston stole a glance at his wife CJ who was in the passenger seat of his truck. It was Thursday, January 9th and they had been back at work since Monday. The holidays had been an eventful time. Although they had planned to spend Christmas in Hawaii with the Novelli family, the Houstons – along with their daughter Catey Rose and her nanny Sheila Wentworth – had instead ended up at the ranch in Texas. Rosita Ortiz, the daughter of the long-time housekeeper of the Houston area ranch, had been carjacked along with her four month old daughter. Matt had been called for help in finding the pair and had ended up being made a Detective Sergeant with the Harris County Sheriff's Department. Unbeknownst to him, CJ had arranged to fly in the Novelli family as well as the Hoyts and Uncle Roy just in time for Christmas. And then of course there was New Year's.

Smiling, he thought back to the early morning hours of New Year's Day when he and CJ had made love trying for another baby. They were both pretty certain that she was pregnant but it was a little too soon to know for sure.

Looking over at his wife once again he couldn't help but smile. She had dozed off; that was something that had happened quite often when she was pregnant with their daughter. Deep in his heart Matt was sure she was expecting. As he turned off on the road headed toward the ranch nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains his phone rang. He was surprised when he saw the name on his caller ID. "Hey, Myron. How's it goin'?"

Myron Chase was the younger brother of Murray Chase, Houston's former accountant and now CEO of Houston Industries, as well as the husband of Houston's secretary Chris. "Not good. We've had a death at the casino and it looks suspicious. Do you think you could come take a look?"

Although Matt had strictly been working on cases for the LAPD and Fire Marshal's Office due to making more time for his Fire Investigation classes, he agreed. "What about the police?"

"I mentioned calling you and the detective said to tell you hello – her name is Marsha Hites?" Myron sounded somewhat puzzled.

"Sure, I met her a few weeks ago. Good. Hang on a second for me." He told CJ what was going on.

"I never did get to stay in Vegas." She smiled at him, referring to a case they had helped Michael Hoyt with a while back.

"The boss says okay. She's looking forward to a trip to Vegas."

"Great. I've got a suite reserved for you.'

"Alright. We're almost home. Give us time to pack a bag and we'll be there quick as we can."

"Thanks a lot. I'm looking forward to seeing you." Myron breathed a sigh of relief as he disconnected the call. The death was bound to cause a lot of media attention and the quicker it was dealt with the better. Bad press wouldn't help them to fill hotel rooms and the casino. As he walked back toward the conference room where he and the other owners of the Golden Stallion had been talking about how to best handle the situation Myron took a deep breath. When he had quit his job as a financial advisor and invested his savings in the casino Myron thought that it would be a piece of cake. Little did he know that owning the property would be a gamble. It seemed to him that the biggest bets weren't being made in the casinos; they were being made by the casinos themselves, betting their own success against their competition. Not only did they have to compete with the other casinos in Las Vegas, they had to compete with other tourist destinations worldwide. His brother Murray had been shocked when Myron had announced his plans and had tried to change his mind. He was beginning to think he should have listened.

Opening the conference room door, Myron put a nonchalant look on his face. The other owners were having a lively discussion. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please…" And so another battle among the owners started.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Welcome to the Golden Stallion, Mr. Houston." The valet handed Matt a ticket and pulled away to park the truck after the bags were moved. Putting the luggage on a cart, the bellman spoke to the couple. "Mr. Chase has been notified of your arrival and will meet you inside."

"Thanks." Matt took CJ's hand and they walked inside and up to the counter.

"Mr. and Mrs. Houston are here, Mr. Connell." The bellman spoke to the desk clerk.

"It's so nice to have you with us…" Lowering his voice to a confidential tone he said, "I only wish the circumstances were different."

"I know what you mean." Houston signed the registration and when he looked up, Myron appeared. "Hey Bud, lookin' good. How do you like living in the desert?"

Shaking Matt's hand, Myron smiled. "I barely see the sunshine most days so I don't notice the desert. How are you, CJ?"

"Fine. Matt tells me that you've had some unwelcome excitement."

"We have." Making a face he continued. "Would you like to take a look? The crime scene people are still here and so is Det. Hites."

"Yep, the sooner we see it the sooner we can get started." Putting his arm around CJ, Matt started toward the casino with Myron.

"We managed to land the finals in the poker tournament. I can't believe it's ended up like this." Myron had to raise his voice as they passed the first of several rows of slot machines. The noise level shot up considerably: the noises emitted by the machines were constant, as was the noise made by the hopeful players. Flashing lights, buzzers, and the sound of jingling coins when one of the devices grudgingly paid out were replaced by the cheers and jeers of players at the blackjack tables. As they went toward the poker area, Matt saw that it had been sectioned off from the gaming public by large portable screens. A patrolman was stationed on each section of the screens and the officer that they approached looked at them warily. "Would you please let Det. Hites know that the Houstons are here?" The worried casino owner nervously looked around.

"The crime scene doesn't seem to be slowing down your customers at all." CJ watched as people continued their gaming.

"That's Vegas." Myron looked embarrassed.

"Mr. Houston – good to see you again." Det. Marsha Hites held out her hand.

"Nice to see you, too. This is my wife CJ. CJ, Det. Hites."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." CJ smiled. "It seems strange to say that at a crime scene."

"I have a running joke with my grandmother – I'll probably find a husband at a crime scene." Hites rolled her eyes. "You can come in – it's not much to see actually."

"I'll uh…I'll let you two do…your thing. If you need anything just call." Myron backed away, not particularly wanting to see the dead man again.

"Okay…" Matt stepped inside and looked around. "So the only unusual thing here is a dead man."

"Exactly." Hites pointed to the table where the man was seated, his head down on the table.

Matt squatted down to get a look at him. "Hope he didn't feel it when his nose hit the table – looks like it might have broken it."

"Uh huh. According to the witnesses he was almost late getting back from a half hour break. He sat down and after the cards were dealt he just kind of gasped and fell over."

"No one tried to resuscitate him?" CJ watched as the crime scene techs bagged up each player's cards and chips.

"No. It took the paramedics a while to get here and no one else…" The detective stopped and motioned with her hands. "No one else wanted to touch him. He wasn't well liked."

"Wow…" Matt stood and looked around. "So how many others were here? I see six chairs so I guess four other players and a dealer?"

"Exactly." Hites indicated the area outside the screen. "The organizers were seated on this side in the chairs out there and the audience claimed the rest." She motioned to the techs. "We've had a really busy day. Otherwise we would have already had all of this done and they would probably be playing poker in this area again."

"Where are the players and the dealer?" Houston walked back around to CJ's side.

"At headquarters. I'm about to head there now – need a lift?"

"Sure." They started out of the area.

"Matt, if I had a list of everyone at the table I could start to work." CJ looked over at her husband.

"How about if I give you a copy of my notes?" Hites looked around at the private investigator.

"I'm sure the front desk could handle that. Thanks." They talked to Mr. Connell and he ran off two copies – one for each of the Houstons.

"Do you want me to walk you up?" Matt took his wife's hand again.

"No, I'll be fine." She reached up and gave him a kiss. "Be careful."

"Yes ma'am. I'll call you." He gave her a kiss. "Love you, Babe."

"Love you, Cowboy." She turned and headed toward the elevators, Matt watching her until the doors closed.

"Your wife seems really sweet." Marsha pulled out her keys as she approached the front door.

"She is – unless you're on the opposing side in a courtroom. She grows these real big fangs." Houston grinned.

"A lawyer? Wow, she's too nice for that." They both laughed. As they headed to the Homicide office, Det. Hites began talking about the case Matt had been working on the month before. "You really had that King guy pegged."

"I had a lot of help from officers all over. As a matter of fact, the detective that I worked with in Lone Pine – Wally Simmons – had gone to school with him and knew him personally. He's responsible for a large part of the capture."

"Still, that was some outstanding work on your part."

Continuing to chit chat, it wasn't long before they pulled in to the parking lot. After getting Houston a visitor's pass, the two took the elevator up to the homicide office where they ran into Lt. Mario Patrillo. "Houston, how're you doing?" He stopped and shook Matt's hand.

"Good – yourself?" Matt still couldn't get over how much Patrillo looked like his friend Vince Novelli, with the addition of a moustache.

"Good. Except now I've got a dead poker player on my hands. I'm about to start interviewing the other players and the dealer. Care to sit in?"

"Sure, if you don't mind." Matt followed Patrillo into a cramped interview room.

"Mr. Knight, thanks for coming in to talk with us."

"Sure, but it's not like I really had a choice in the matter is it?"

"I hope we can get you back to the casino as soon as possible. What can you tell us about Mr. Cipriano and what happened?"

"Cipriano was a piece of work. I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead but quite frankly I don't know of anything nice to say about the man – other than he was a good poker player."

Matt almost choked on his coffee. "Ahem. 'Scuse me." He was having a hard time keeping from laughing. "How well did you know him?"

"I've been a professional dealer going on thirty years. In that time I've seen my share of Ciprianos. They love to talk big and try to bully. First time I met him was ten years ago – the first time he made it to the finals. Nothing much has changed. He's still a jerk. But like I said, a good poker player. Never saw him anywhere else."

Exchanging a look, the three detectives all nodded. "If no one has any other questions…" Patrillo looked at his companions both of whom shook their heads. "You're free to go."

"Hang on, I do have one question." Matt put down the cup of coffee. "You've been a dealer for thirty years; why are you working for the Golden Stallion? Someone with your years of experience is probably a hot commodity."

"Because most of the casinos now are hiring young folks – pretty people. I am far from pretty." Knight started laughing.

"Thanks for your time." Matt shook hands with the dealer and followed the other two detectives into the next interrogation room.

"Ms. Donohue, I'm Lt. Patrillo…"

"Are you in charge here? I want to file a complaint." Charlene Donohue was a fiery red head, standing about 5'2". Matt assessed her weight as an easy 250 pounds. Appearing to be in her late forties, Donohue reminded the private eye of someone who had taken a bite of green persimmon. Whereas when most people frowned it only involved their mouth, when Charlene frowned her whole face got in on the act. Placing her hands on her hips, Donohue subjected the three detectives to a frightening sight. Not only was she wearing a blood-red dress that clashed badly with her hair color, the dress appeared to have been constructed with someone several sizes smaller in mind.

"If you would have a seat, we'll try to finish the interview as quickly as possible…I promise." Patrillo took a seat as he said the words and Matt walked over to the small window and looked out, trying his best not to laugh at the lieutenant's comment.

"I certainly hope so." She sat down and rolled her eyes as she gave a dramatic sigh.

"Now if you could just tell us your version of what happened…?" Marsha flipped to a new page in her notebook.

"My version would be the truth, dearie. There isn't much to tell really. We were playing poker and Paolo just fell over dead. The end. Can I go now?"

Matt was leaning against the wall with his own notebook opened up and looked at Donohue. "Could you elaborate a little, please?"

"I don't know what you want to hear, sweetness." She batted her eyelashes at him.

"How was the game going? Who was winning? Were there any arguments?"

"We had been playing for an hour and a half when the officials called for a half hour break. After it was up we started playing again. As far as who was winning – it was about even."

"And what was your relationship with Mr. Cipriano?" The lieutenant already knew that Donohue and Cipriano were divorced from each other.

"There wasn't one."

Marsha spoke up then. "I understand that you and Cipriano were married at one time?"

"Oh, so you're just automatically going to blame it on the ex. How typical." She gave the woman a look of hatred. "Yeah, we were divorced – what of it?"

"I think what Det. Hites is asking is did you two manage to get along together or was there a lot of animosity?" The PI didn't know much about Cipriano but didn't think anyone would be able to have a happy marriage with Charlene Donohue.

"Exactly who the hell are you? I don't see a badge."

Matt reached into his pocket and retrieved his badge that he had recently gotten from the Harris County Sheriff's Department and flashed it. At a distance the seven-pointed star could pass for that of the LVMPD. "Sgt. Houston." He conveniently left off the part about Harris County.

"Well Sergeant – we got along about as good as most divorced couples. He sure wasn't on my friends list."

"Uh huh…and did you two have any disagreements at the tournament?"

"Of course – the man was a jackass!"

"Could you tell us what the argument concerned?"

"None of your damn business, that's what!" She lumbered to her feet reminding Matt of a cow stuck in mud. "Are we done here? Because if we aren't I want a lawyer. You're trying to pin this on me!"

"Ms. Donohue, you may leave but please keep yourself available – we may need to speak with you again." Patrillo stood up.

"What the hell does that mean – _"keep yourself available"_?"

Marsha spoke up. "Don't leave town."

Lt. Patrillo hit the coffee pot for a refill and topped off Matt's cup as well. He watched as Charlene got on the elevator and disappeared. "Sgt. Houston, huh? Did we hit the good prizes in the cereal box?" He gave Houston a crooked smile.

"Nope. It's the real deal." He pulled out his wallet and removed his ID card and handed it and the badge to the cop.

"Damn. Okay…" He handed them back. "That could sure pass for one of our badges."

"She didn't ask _where_ I was a cop." Matt grinned and put the items back where they came from.

"Okay, let's get back to it." Mario led the way to another interrogation room. Inside was a man, just slightly shorter than Matt, with blonde hair and blue eyes. "Mr. Marlin, have a seat please." The lieutenant sat down at the table and took a sip of coffee. The poker player straightened his tie and sat down opposite the cop. "We appreciate your cooperation and would like to ask you a few questions about what happened."

"Sure, but I thought he just had a heart attack or stroke." Marlin had a southern accent that Houston pegged as being from Georgia.

"We don't know yet. There has to be an autopsy. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Well, we had been playing an hour or so, they called a break, then we came back and started again and Cipriano just dropped dead." He sat back in the chair and laid his hands flat on the table.

"Is that all? Were there any disagreements during the game? Anybody loosing badly?"

"Cipriano and his ex were nagging each other but that isn't unusual. We were all pretty much even as far as the game. It was kinda slow." Marlin paused. "The only thing that really sticks out in my mind was what Charlene Donohue said right before he fell over."

Marsha looked up from her notebook. "And what was that?"

"Cipriano was almost late getting back and she mentioned the second card rule."

The female detective looked puzzled. "The second card rule?"

Matt nodded and spoke. "In a tournament, if the player isn't back in his seat by the time his second card is dealt his hand is declared dead."

Marlin pointed to Matt. "Exactly."

"So how did you and Cipriano get along?" Patrillo threw his empty cup in the trash can.

"We didn't." Rodney Marlin chuckled. "Guess that doesn't sound very good, but it's the truth. I don't think anybody could get along with him."

"Mr. Marlin thanks for your time." Patrillo stood. "Please keep yourself available in case we have any other questions."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm hoping we'll get to continue the game. There's a lot of money at stake."

The next player to be interviewed was Rudy Wilton. Standing about 5'8", Wilton had salt and pepper hair and gray eyes. His beard was neatly trimmed and his arms were well-muscled, his biceps bulging under the sleeves of his t-shirt.

"Mr. Wilton, thanks for coming in to talk with us. Could you tell us what happened?" Patrillo thought he was beginning to sound like a broken record.

"We were just playing cards and Cipriano just…fell over." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Were there any arguments among the players?" Patrillo was glad they only had one more person to interview.

Wilton nodded. "Cipriano and that ex-wife of his were going back and forth. I can't believe they were ever married. That right there was a match made in hell."

"What about you? Any problems with him?"

"Not really. I just tried to ignore both of them. They were too distracting. There's a lot of money riding on that game."

They continued on for a few minutes getting pretty much the same answers that had been given by the others. Patrillo thanked him and they headed for the last interview.

The fifth and last interview was with Wiley Shaw, a retired owner of a company that manufactured plumbing parts and fixtures. Shaw was short – about 5'4" with a headful of snowy white hair.

"What can you tell us, Mr. Shaw?" Marsha took the lead.

"Not much, I'm afraid. The game was going kind of slow and they called a thirty minute break. I got back to the table a couple of minutes before we started back. Cipriano almost got dealt out – he was late getting back. Just managed to beat the second card rule. And then he just – boom."

"Were there any arguments going on?" Marsha tapped her pen on the notebook.

"Not really – except for Donohue and Cipriano bickering at each other. They were divorced." He shook his head and leaned back.

The three detectives exchanged glances. Patrillo stood. "Mr. Shaw, thanks for your help. We might need to ask you more questions later."

"So like in all the old movies – "don't leave town", huh?" He smiled as he stood up. "I've got too much money tied up in this game to go anywhere."

Matt tossed his cup in the garbage can and followed Patrillo and Hites back to the squad room. The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "So we've got nothing."

"Guess we'll just have to see what the ME says." Marsha sat down at her desk.

"Need a ride back to the hotel?" Patrillo reached into his office and got his suit jacket.

"If it's not a problem." Houston said goodbye to Marsha and boarded the elevator with the lieutenant.

"So what's the story with the badge?" Patrillo pulled out his keys as Matt explained. "Sounds like that sheriff is pretty sharp."

"She's got her head on straight." Matt nodded. The pair chatted during the trip back to the Golden Stallion and the PI looked at his watch as he waited on the elevator inside the hotel: it was almost 9:00. He went to the suite and found CJ sitting cross legged on the couch working on the computer. Leaning down he kissed her on the cheek. "How's it going?" Matt sat down next to her and put an arm across the back of the sofa.

"Oh, somewhat interesting. How did the interviews go?"

"So-so. Charlene Donohue is a piece of work." He rolled his eyes. "Wanna have some dinner?"

The lawyer smiled. "I had a cheeseburger earlier but I do kinda have the munchies."

Leaning toward her and putting his forehead on hers, Matt grinned and kissed her again. "I bet you do." The kiss this time was lengthier. "What do you want?"

"Oh, a couple of things…" CJ reached up and stroked his cheek. "But I think some ice cream would be great first."

"Uh huh." He leaned across her and picked up the phone. "Order me whatever you had…plus ice cream. Then I'll see about giving you the other things you want."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Waking up about 1:00AM, Matt looked down at his wife. Every morning since their honeymoon he woke up the same way – CJ lying in his arms, her head on his chest and her left arm across his belly. He watched her sleep for a few minutes, remembering the dream that he had awakened from and hoping that it would come true.

Gently working a pillow down under her, the cowboy carefully got out of the bed, softly kissing his wife on the cheek. He picked up his jeans and slid them on and walked into the living room of the suite, opening the laptop that CJ had been using to research the others who had been at the table when Cipriano had died.

CJ was a neat freak when it came to computers and research. She had all of the information cataloged and labeled so that it was easy to find. Matt got up and went to the refrigerator behind the bar and found a beer. After popping the top and taking a swig, he settled back in on the couch and began reading. His first stop in the files was Paolo Cipriano, the deceased.

Cipriano was 54 years old, 5'8", 260 pounds with salt and pepper hair. He apparently was a professional gambler and after reading a little further, the PI understood why. Paolo was the nephew of Enrico Cipriano, who up until his death six months earlier had reportedly been one of the biggest crime bosses in the Mafia in New Jersey. Whether or not Paolo had worked in the family business was unknown, but he did like to dress the part: Italian silk suits were his normal wardrobe and he was a cigar aficionado.

Cipriano had been married for six years to Charlene Donohue. Matt snickered as he thought back to the comment made by Rudy Wilton during his interview. He had referred to the marriage as being a match made in hell. The details of the divorce weren't specified but it had cost Cipriano a hefty sum to be rid of his wife. Ironically, they had met and married at a casino in Atlantic City.

Next on CJ's alphabetized list was Rodney Marlin, a 34 year old former stock broker from Atlanta, Georgia. Standing 6'1" and 200 pounds, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed gambler was considered quite the ladies' man. He had been involved with a string of women including an actress and a singer. That didn't raise any suspicions with Matt but the next bit of information that CJ had found did: Cipriano had accused Marlin of cheating during the very same tournament the previous year. No evidence had been found to prove Cipriano's theory. Both men were involved in a fist fight following the conclusion of the game and had been arrested on disorderly conduct charges. They paid a fine and were soon on their way. Houston found it interesting that Marlin hadn't shared that information during his interview. The PI drank more of the beer and pondered the revelation a minute before moving on down the list.

Wiley Shaw was 67, the retired owner of a nationally known company famous for plumbing parts and fixtures. From St. Louis, Shaw had been married for 40 years to Millicent Shaver, who had died nine years earlier. They had two sons who now oversaw the day to day operations of the company their father had started thirty years ago. Other than the fact that he had lost to Cipriano in the same finals the year before there was nothing else to point to the man as a suspect.

The last player on the list was Rudy Wilton, who had won the Great Stakes Lottery three years earlier and quit his job as a commercial fisherman in Alaska. Matt took another swig of beer. He didn't blame Wilton for leaving his job. It was tough and dangerous work, and also explained why the gambler was well-muscled. The only thing CJ had found on him was a mention that he had been insulted by Cipriano the year before about his former line of work. Nothing else stood out about the man.

Moving to the last person who had been seated at the table Matt clicked on the file containing information about James Knight, the dealer for the game. As he had told the detectives, the man had been a dealer for almost thirty years and had worked at three of the top casinos in the city before moving to the Golden Stallion a few months earlier. The fact that he had been chosen as the dealer for the tournament finals three times before said a lot. Knight didn't have a police record and had been married to the same woman for thirty two years. He had come to Vegas after serving in the Air Force for four years. That was the end of the information and the PI polished off the beer before closing the laptop and replacing it on the table.

He wandered back into the bedroom, shed his jeans and woke CJ up with a kiss, immediately being brought down on the bed and devoured with kisses. He decided not to worry about Cipriano's death for the rest of the night as he lost himself in his wife's charms.

The next morning CJ and Matt called Myron and set up a time to go over the surveillance videos for the poker game. At 9:00AM they met him on the first floor at the security office. "If you'll follow me, we can go meet with Bernie Lipton." Myron ushered them down a hallway. "Bernie is the head of security."

They arrived at a room that had a guard stationed outside and were taken inside what reminded Matt of a NASA control room. There were monitors everywhere. "Matt and CJ Houston, meet Bernie Lipton. Bernie, the Houstons." The three shook hands.

Lipton was of average height and wore his dark brown hair in a military style crew cut. With the tailored suit he was wearing it was apparent that the man worked out. "Nice to meet you." He took them over to a console where a young woman was seated. "Grace, would you pull up the tournament surveillance for us?"

"Yes sir." A few keystrokes brought up an image on the monitor of the five players and the dealer as they sat down and the cards were dealt. They watched the footage at a somewhat increased speed and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Could you slow it down to normal speed when they come back from the break?" Matt leaned a little closer. When the break was nearly over the players started drifting back into the room. The dealer – Knight – sat down first followed by Marlin, Shaw, and Wilton who sat down at the same time. Less than a minute later Charlene took her seat. Knight looked at his watch and the director of the tournament nodded at the dealer when it was time for the play to resume. Cipriano showed up as Shaw received his second card and was in his seat just a matter of seconds before his own second card was dealt. Charlene could be heard speaking. _"It's a shame you got back in time – I was hoping that you would be a dead hand."_

"Whoa…" Matt watched as less than a minute later Cipriano's hands began to shake, his eyes rolled back, and he gasped before his face hit the table with a thud. A loud crack could be heard. "Guess that was his nose." For a split second no one moved, then a murmur went up from the crowd. The tournament director felt Cipriano's neck for a pulse but didn't find one_. "He's dead."_

As they continued to watch not one single person attempted to revive the man. CJ watched in amazement. "Can you imagine being so despised that no one would try to help you?"

"It took the paramedics five minutes and some change to arrive on scene. We have a couple on staff but they were dealing with a heart attack and a child with a severe asthma attack." Bernie Lipton shrugged his shoulders.

Myron finally spoke up. "Have they done an autopsy yet?"

Shaking his head Matt answered. "Supposed to be happening about now." He stood thoughtfully watching the video. "Where did Cipriano go on his break?"

"We can find out." Grace rewound to the point where the players left on their breaks. Cipriano went through the casino into the lobby of the hotel. The woman switched to one of the lobby cameras at the same time. It picked up the gambler crossing the lobby. She switched to another view that showed him exiting through a side door. Once again she switched to another camera and Cipriano could be seen pulling a cigar out of what looked like a silver tube, clipping the end and then pulling a good sized lighter from his coat pocket.

"What is he doing?" CJ watched as the man ignited the lighter and slowly turned the cigar in his fingers, holding it near the flame but not touching it.

"He's toasting it. You get the tobacco to light from being close to the lighter – remember the section on radiant heat?" Matt was referring to a subject covered in his Fire Investigation textbook from the last semester.

"Oh, okay." CJ had read the book in order to be able to help Matt.

"It's supposed to keep the flavor from being charred."

"That's an awfully big cigar for a thirty minute break."

"Something tells me he didn't care. Seems like he's having trouble with it not staying lit." Matt watched as Cipriano kept holding the lighter to the cigar, forgetting about toasting it. He took several big puffs and then sat down on a bench and smoked for a few minutes before looking at his watch. He stood up, threw the cigar into the bushes and made a beeline back into the building, pausing for a few seconds at the doorway as he loosened his tie a bit before going to his seat. "I'm going to go see if I can find that cigar." Matt spun and took off out of the room followed closely by CJ and Myron.

Going out through the same door that Cipriano had, Matt walked to the bushes. "Found it." He pulled out his phone and called Mario Patrillo and explained what they had.

"Great timing, Houston. The ME just told me it looked like some kind of poison. That could be how he ingested it. See you in a few minutes."

"CJ, you're about to meet Vince Novelli's doppelganger – with a moustache." Matt put his phone away.

"Do you really think he was murdered?" Myron spoke in almost a whisper.

"The ME thinks it's a strong possibility. He won't know for sure until the lab work comes back." Matt noticed how nervous Myron was. "Bud, I don't think you've got too much to worry about. You seem to have plenty of guests."

"We do now; most people think he just had a heart attack. News of a murder could…" He waved his hands looking for the right words.

"It could be murder for the business." CJ watched as Myron nodded.

"Look on the bright side: you might be able to sell tickets for a ghost tour." Matt grinned at the man who did not look reassured in the least.

A short time later Mario Patrillo showed up with a crime scene tech. CJ did a double-take when she saw the homicide cop. "You weren't joking. He's a dead ringer for Vince." Matt introduced the two.

"So you looked through the videos?" Patrillo watched as the tech documented the scene.

"Yeah." Matt nodded in the direction of the tech. "I think that's the murder weapon."

"You know what they say: smoking will kill ya." Patrillo gave a smirk.

"My God…he's just like Vince." CJ stared in amazement.

"Told ya so." Matt put an arm around her. "Have you gone through any of his belongings yet?"

"Not yet. Detective Hites has been looking through the security footage. Let me rephrase that: she _planned_ on looking at it. Another case came in and she got tagged with it. I've been with the ME all morning so I'm not real sure."

"I'm done here, Lieutenant." The female crime scene tech packed up her equipment.

"Want to come down and take a look at Cipriano's property?" Patrillo removed his keys.

Matt looked at CJ and they agreed to meet him there. After giving the valet his ticket and having the truck brought around the pair headed for the LVMPD headquarters. Patrillo had arranged for visitor passes to be waiting for them.

Once in the homicide office they were taken to a conference room where the same tech was getting ready to go through the suitcase and garment bag that had been in Cipriano's room.

Patrillo watched as she carefully removed the contents of the garment bag. "He hadn't even unpacked. According to the hotel's records the only time his room was opened yesterday was when the bellman took his bags up for him. Cipriano went straight to the game." Nothing of interest was found in the bag.

Moving on to the suitcase there were the usual items inside: underwear, socks, pajamas, slippers, and cologne. The tech found a small black bag about nine inches by five inches by five inches. She unzipped it and inside was a travel-size humidor. Matt and Patrillo exchanged a look. The lieutenant leaned closer. "How many are in there?"

"Nine." The tech closed the box back up as well as the case before putting it into an evidence bag and sealing it.

"He had what looked like a silver tube that he pulled that cigar out of…" Matt looked at the items on the table. "That case looks like it holds ten."

"We'll get all of them tested." Patrillo shook his head.

"CJ here ran a check on the other players and the dealer. There were a couple of interesting things that they omitted in their interviews yesterday." Matt had his hand on CJ's waist as they followed Patrillo to his office.

"Have a seat." The cop hung up his jacket and loosened his tie. "So what did you find?"

CJ told him about Rodney Marlin's cheating scandal and subsequent fist fight with Cipriano, the derogatory comment that had been made to Rudy Wilton, and last but not least the second card rule comment made by the man's ex-wife. "You can hear that one for yourself on the video."

"Okay…" The cop stood up and waved the lawyer over to his chair. "Would you show me the comment?"

"Sure." She got up and walked around the desk, fast forwarding the file on the computer and playing the statement made by Charlene Donohue.

There was a knock on the door and a uniformed officer was waved inside. "This was sent to you by Golden Stallion's security chief." He handed a flash drive to the lieutenant.

"Thanks, Cole." He popped it into a USB port on the computer.

"This is what we were watching this morning." CJ clicked on the new file and they watched again. As Patrillo stood there, his arms crossed and his jaw dropped when he heard what Donohue said.

"Holy cow." He shook his head. "This woman is a real peach. But the way she is…" The cop threw is hands in the air.

"And that still doesn't mean that she did it." Matt rubbed at the beard on his face. "Marlin is looking kind of suspicious."

"It seems to me that we won't be able to say who did it until we find out _how_ it was done." CJ moved around the desk to stand next to her husband. "That cigar is going to be the key to this whole thing I believe."

"And don't forget Cipriano's family connections." The lieutenant sat down behind his desk." We need to know where he got the cigars – assuming of course that was the murder weapon."

"Have the tournament officials decided what they're going to do about the game?" Houston absentmindedly scratched his moustache with the back of his thumb.

Patrillo nodded. "It's set to continue this afternoon."

"I might just see if I can get a seat in there and watch."

"I think I'm going to do some more digging – there's got to be something we're missing." CJ stood.

"Okay, guess we'll keep each other in the loop, huh?" He stood and shook hands with the couple. "It was a pleasure to meet you, CJ."

"Same here." She took Matt's hand as they left the office and headed up the hallway to the elevator. "I wonder how long it will take them to determine for sure if it was poison?"

"Don't know – but I'm sure the sooner this is all over with the happier Myron is going to be."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Back at the Golden Stallion the pair met with Myron to bring him up to date on what they had so far. They left him looking just as worried as he had been earlier in the day.

The couple went up to their suite and settled in on the couch with the laptop. "So what do you think about Charlene Donohue?" Matt looked over at his wife. "I'd like a lady's perspective on her."

"Well, she _is_ his ex. There's a little bit of motive. She's…uh…" CJ paused, trying to find the right words. "There's just no polite way to say it: she's a bitch." Matt started laughing. "But, it takes intelligence to play the game as well as she does – otherwise she wouldn't be here. You know as well as I do that poker is not only a game of chance but strategy as well."

"In other words if she killed him it would be too obvious and she's smart enough to know it."

"Exactly. All of the players are smart. If the cigar was the murder weapon, that took some strategy to figure out."

"The way I see it, we have a few things we need to check. Where did he get the cigars? Did any of the players – besides Charlene – know about his cigar habit?" He stood up and started pacing. "There's also the possibility of the mob connection." He paced for a minute. "Marlin is my second strongest suspect."

"It could be he thought that suspicion would naturally be focused on Charlene. Her attitude certainly makes it more likely."

"And I'd like to try to get a peek at the financials on these people. They've got to have money to get this far. I know Wilton won the lottery and Shaw has a major national company. Marlin was a stock broker…but why did he quit? Not many people give up a job like that to gamble."

"Myron did."

"Yes and no: when he quit the financial advisor job I don't think he realized how risky this business can be."

"He's really stressed out."

"And there's something else I want to know: where was Cipriano before he came here…" Matt stopped in his tracks.

"What?"

"CJ, what if it wasn't one of the players from this game? He had to beat a lot of other people to get here."

"Thanks for opening up an entirely different can of worms." She blew out a breath.

"It is a possibility but I think we better concentrate on the folks we have access to at the present. They were with him when it happened." He looked at his watch. "They're going to pick up the game at 1:30. Let's see what we can get in the meantime." He sat down with her on the couch.

"So who do you want to start with first?"

"Let's look at Marlin a little more." He watched as she began searching.

"Alright, Marlin quit the stock broker job six years ago. He had worked for Michaelson & Haywood since his college days when he started as an intern. After graduation he was taken on full time and was their top earner at the end of the second year and several other years as well." She continued looking. "Ah hah – think I just found the reason why he left. Apparently Jacob Naisson – his boss – didn't think his wife was a proper bonus or perk. They were caught together by Naisson in the boardroom at the company headquarters. He immediately resigned and began playing poker in earnest. That was 2007."

"Guess that answers our question. He had plenty of money at that point and might have had a rough time getting another job. Let's switch gears. Let's see if we can get a fix on Cipriano's whereabouts before he came to Vegas."

After spending a couple of hours working the computer they grabbed some lunch and Matt headed for the game. He began talking to Eli Watson, one of the tournament organizers.

"Paolo Cipriano was an absolutely brilliant poker player. He had a great relationship with the cards – but no one else." Ward took a drink. "I don't think he could get along with anyone."

"That's what I've been gathering." Matt was leaning against the wall in the poker area of the casino. His phone vibrated and he looked at the ID: Mario Patrillo. "'Scuse me a minute." He stepped away from Ward. "Hey."

"The ME says it was poison and the lab confirmed it came from the cigar. You aren't going to believe what was in them."

"What?"

"A feather from a Hooded Pitohui bird."

"What in the hell is that?"

"Some bird from New Guinea."

"You're kidding; since when are birds poisonous?"

"These are. Ever heard of a poison dart frog?"

"Yeah. Some of the tribes in South America rub their arrow tips on the frogs and it paralyzes the game they hunt."

"Right. Well, these birds do the same thing but it's the feathers that contain the poison."

"Well that's certainly creative." Matt left the casino and went into the hotel lobby. "So we need to find out who has access to this stuff."

"Exactly."

"Okay, so…we need to see who's been to New Guinea." He entered the elevator and headed back up to the suite. "We need to see who's taken their passport for a trip."

"That's one way of putting it." Patrillo snickered.

"Talk to you later." He got off the elevator and went into the suite finding CJ right on the couch where he had left her. After explaining the bird feathers in the cigars he sat down next to her.

"Congratulations." She gave him a smile.

"On…?"

"I checked in with Chris a little while ago. Your favorite reporter, Tamara Placer showed up at the office looking for you again. Chris said she seemed really disappointed that you weren't there."

"Uh huh – anyway, let's get back to the cigars."

"I've been checking into who makes hand rolled cigars around the area. There are three shops in the city but none of them admit to selling to any of our suspects."

"He had them in the travel humidor." He sat back. "What about checking in Atlantic City and Atlanta?"

CJ began working the keyboard. "I've got several here. I'll give them a call." Pausing for a moment she looked at her husband. "Don't you think we should check St. Louis and Anchorage – just to be thorough? I know you're leaning toward Charlene or Marlin but we really need to keep an open mind, Matt."

"Yep, you're right." He kissed her on the cheek. "Just like always."

"Not always." She returned to the keyboard. "Just usually." Grinning, she continued her search. "Wanna split the list?"

"Sure." She hit the print button and the printer in the executive suite came to life. Matt went and pulled the pages out, giving her the top page while he took the bottom. He went over to the bar and had a seat on one of the stools, pulled out a pen, and started dialing the phone.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Matt and CJ met Mario Patrillo and Marsha Hites in the casino. The two PI's watched as the two cops stepped over to speak to Eli Ward. With a shocked expression on his face, the tournament official stood up. "Players, please lay your cards face down on the table." All looked up at him in surprise – except for one.

"Mr. Shaw, would you stand please?" Patrillo approached the man who quietly stood. "Sir, you're under arrest for the murder of Paolo Cipriano." The noise level in the casino became incredibly loud. The other three players looked shocked, but Wiley Shaw didn't show any sign of distress or anger as the lieutenant put the cuffs on him and led him out of the casino as he read him his rights.

Matt and CJ once again had visitor passes waiting on them at the front desk and went up to where Shaw was sitting quietly in an interrogation room. Hites, Patrillo, and the Houstons filed in. "Mr. Shaw, are you sure you don't want to call an attorney?"

"No thanks."

"Okay." The lieutenant looked across at the man. "Why?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase _"That man needed killing"_? That's why. He killed my youngest son."

"We don't have any record of that Mr. Shaw. Could you tell us what happened?"

"He didn't actually pull the trigger, but he might as well have. See my youngest son Greg liked to play poker. He was pretty good, too; so good in fact that he made it all the way to the semi-finals of this tournament nine years ago. It took everything he had to get there and even some that he didn't have. He put another mortgage on his house, took out a title loan on his car, and had pawned just about everything he owned to get up the money to compete. His wife hit the roof when she found out what he had done and she left him. I didn't know about it until it was too late. My wife was dying at the time from ovarian cancer. She kept telling me that she was holding on so that she could know that Greg won the tournament." A tear traced a path down Shaw's left cheek. "He called me about ten o'clock that night. He had been knocked out of the tournament by Cipriano and lost everything: his home, his car, and his wife and two daughters. The bastard had run up the betting until Greg had to go all in. That was the end of it." He wiped away more tears. "Greg was sitting in his car that was about to be repossessed, in front of his house that was about to be foreclosed on when he called to tell us goodbye. He pulled the trigger. A minute later Millicent died." He wiped away more tears but smiled. "I swore I would get even with Cipriano and I finally did."

"But look at the price you're paying for revenge." Patrillo couldn't believe his ears. "You'll either get life in prison or the death penalty. How can you be so calm?"

"I've already got a death sentence. I've got cancer, too – and about three months to live."

After Shaw's confession, Matt and CJ stood talking with Hites and Patrillo in the hallway. "I've never seen anything like it before." The lieutenant just shook his head. "I honestly would never have thought it was him."

"I didn't either." Matt stood with his arm around CJ.

"Guess I better get started on the paperwork. It was nice to see you again, Houston; and CJ, it was a pleasure to meet you." Patrillo walked them to the elevator.

"For me as well." CJ looked up at her husband. "So, are we headed back home or are we going to hang around another night?"

"Since you were so deprived on your first trip to Vegas I thought we might be able to catch a show tonight. Maybe head back home tomorrow, whatcha say?" He smiled down at her.

"I say we better start trying to find some tickets."


End file.
